


La impersistencia de la memoria

by DorMarunt



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24460477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorMarunt/pseuds/DorMarunt
Summary: High!fic. In which one is waxing poetic, the other is horny, and let me not spoil the surprise ending for you.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 3
Kudos: 79





	La impersistencia de la memoria

“Come on, have a toke!”

“Martín.”  
  
“Come on, don’t let me have all the fun!”

“Martín, you now I don’t partake. I find it… immature. I’m a grown man. I drink.” He raised his glass and pointedly took a sip.

“Yes, and sometimes you drink until you get drunk, what’s mature in that?” At Andrés’ immovable expression, he took another long drag from the rolled cigarette and handed it to him again. “Come on, what’s wrong with being immature from time to time?”

“Look, we have a heist in three weeks, you know we have to make sure that everything is perfect.”

“What, right now?” Martín asked, snorting. “And this is some pretty weak shit, you’re definitely going to be okay _at least_ a day before the heist. Maybe two if you keep letting me hog it.”

Andrés leaned forward and took the offered joint, finally taking a small puff. 

“Oh, don’t make me come over there.” Martín threatened. 

He straddled Andrés’ lap, pinched the cigarette from his mouth and took a long drag, then leaned in close to Andrés’ lips. “Open your mouth.” Smoke poured out with his breath as he spoke, and into Andrés’ open lips in an inhale. “Hold it.”

“Wow. You said this was weak.” A small cough.

“I lied.”

“You lied just to get me high? Whatever are your plans for me, _señor_? I’ll have you know I’m simply not that kind of man.”

Martín dissolved into a fit of giggles, taking another deep suck at the cigarette before handing it back and leaning his head in the crook of Andrés’ neck. “I’m pretty sure I’m having deja-vu, except we’re not in my old room in uni. And you’re far, _far_ handsomer than I remember.”

Andrés chuckled, grabbing the cigarette and taking a drag. They passed what was left of the joint between each other until it was gone, and Martín leaned awkwardly to stub the roach in the ashtray. 

“You know, you look really handsome like this. With me on your lap.” he clarified.

“You are just perpetually horny, aren’t you?”

“And you aren’t?”

Groan. “I didn’t use to be.”

“You’re shitting me, right? You know I’ve seen you leave with women within ten minutes of meeting them. _More than once_.”

“You’re the one to talk! Mister boom boom ciao, mister ‘gay sex is best sex’-”

“It is.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong. It’s different with women, they always want just a little bit more, and sometimes you have nothing more to offer than the release. I envy you being able to keep things on a strictly sexual level.”

“Look you know I’ve slowed down on my sleeping around since we’ve started doing this.”

“This?”

“Each other.”

“Mmm. You know you don’t have to, right?”

“I do. But I want to. Have I told you that I really like being the only guy that you kiss?”

“What makes you so sure that you are?”

Martín leaned back, a look of mock surprise on his face. “Am I?”

“...yes.” 

Martín leaned in, nuzzling at Andrés’ sharp jaw. “I really love the gray in your hair.”

“Excuse me, you love the _what_ in my hair?”

“Come on, don’t be vain. You definitely have grey hairs.”

“Like you don’t.”

“I absolutely don’t. You know I’m younger than you. And if there are gray hairs they’re all there because of you and your insufferable stubbornness-” His words were cut off with a kiss.

“Shut up. God, I am so high right now. When did weed become so strong, though?”

“I know, right? I’m not sure I can move right now.”

“Then don’t. Sit here, I’m enjoying this. You are warm.”

“Are you getting chilly? I’m definitely getting a bit chilly. I’d forgotten about this part. Can you lean over and get that blanket?”

“Eventually. Please don’t make me move.”

“Ok.”

“Where did you get this, after all?”

“From the guy that brought the pizza, believe it or not. Before leaving, he just asked if I wanted some weed. You know, like it’s normal.”

“And you said yes.”

“Well, I did want some, so yes.”

“Remind me, how are you a grownup again?”

“Well, basically, years passed and here we are!”

“Hmm.” They leaned into each other, enjoying the pleasant buzz. “I completely forgot what we were saying.”

Martín tried to think for a while, then concluded. “I think you were saying how much you loved me.”

“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t.”

“But you can be! Please? I mean, look at me - what’s there not to love?” And he was right, Andrés thought, looking at the smiling man sitting on his lap, getting overwhelmed with how thankful he felt to know him, to love him. He loved every single one of Martín’s little mannerisms, like how he often cocked his head to one side and his expression changed entirely, or placed his hand on his hip when he started to explain something. And his accent, duller now than when they met, but still present; his was the voice that Andrés could hone on even in a crowded room. He took him in for one more second and then smushed Martín into his arms again.

“God I can’t believe this spark you have. Like a single self-igniting candle flooding the darkness with its light. How are you like this? I’ve always known you to be so engaged in what you’re doing. You seem to live everything with such intensity, such thirst! I don’t know how you managed to not lose that along the way. Life has a way to knock you down and rob you of all that light, you know. It makes a cynic out of the best of us. But in you? It’s still there.” He placed his hand on Martín’s heart, and he smiled back.

“Don’t paint me into this ray of sunshine. _Don’t make me into something I’m not_.”

“Hah! I mean sure, I’ve seen you pop a vein at the most random thing, but even when you get absolutely unhinged you are so fucking passionate about it! Like everything deserves full access to all your emotions.”

“I deserve full access to your dick.”

“Martín, stop it.”

“Oh, the lady doth protest too much! I can feel you getting hard too.”

“It’s just a physiological reaction of my body, carino. You should know that oftentimes dicks have minds of their own.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping yours has a mind to get in me and fuck me raw.”

Andrés laughed, never getting tired of how absolutely shameless Martín could be, so bold and absolutely relentless.

“Do you think it can do that without the rest of me? I’m still really blitzed.”

“I can certainly lend a hand.” And then he snorted, giggles slowly turning into full-blown laughter. “Lend a hand, get it?” He said, catching his breath. “But I can also lend you my mouth. Or my ass.”

“Stop it.” 

“No.” He started to grind his hips, grabbing Andrés’ face to guide him in a kiss, laughter subsiding into moans. “But let’s get in bed though.” He got up, standing for just a second to gauge his balance, then walked to the door, steadying himself for a moment against the frame. Andrés walked up to him, grabbing his waist, stealing a kiss and whispering, “Your ass is simply fantastic, love. A true work of art.” 

He made it his task to enjoy that piece thoroughly, stripping Martín quickly and instructing him to lie on his front. A work of art indeed, a curve that he thought had no place on a man and yet there it was, firm and round, with a hint of darker fuzz on the tops of his thighs. Andrés got Martín to splay out, caressing his inner thighs, grabbing a handful when his hands reached his ass, spreading him apart. He felt the muscles under him tremble slightly with anticipation so he decided to stop teasing and leaned in, tongue swiping from right at the root on Martín’s cock to his puckered hole, focusing next on wetting it thoroughly. 

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” Martín groaned, raising his hips a little. “Wait I don’t need to know details. Just… yes, more of that.” Andrés complied, kneading at the flesh under his palms, making the most obscene sounds while trying to dart his tongue in, through the ring of muscle. “Oh, you are fantastic with your tongue, so glad you’re finally using it right. Ugh- right there. God, just fuck me.”

Andrés got up, panting and flushed, “What, you’re not enjoying this?”

“I want you. In me.” He reached for the nightstand, grabbing a condom and a packet of lube. “How do you want me?”

“I want you moaning and begging and absolutely at my mercy. Get on all fours.” He rolled on the condom while Martín positioned himself, then tore the packet to pour some lube on his fingers. “Relax.” He had to remind Martín, his thighs tight once more with anticipation. The first finger slipped in easily, followed by the second not long after. Andrés leaned in to place kisses on Martín’s lower back, his fingers twisting slowly, drawing moans. “Beg.” 

“Please. Please fuck me, I want you in me. Please.”

Andrés removed his fingers, squirting the rest of the package onto his cock, slathering the remaining slickness against Martín’s entrance. 

The buzz seemed to have faded, but it still came back like waves when Andrés moved, and when he slipped the head of his cock in, it reignited as sparks. For a second it was hard to distinguish between the actual sensation of warmth and tightness that was at the forefront of everything and this odd feeling, like he was suddenly made of vapour, gliding forward with his hips. The sound he made was foreign at first, then realised his moans were mirrored beneath him. “You feel amazing, please tell me you feel it too.”

“I can’t explain it, but I got sparkles on the roof of my mouth.”

Andrés let out a small chuckle. “Come on, you know I’m not _that_ big.”

“I would come if you moved faster, you know.”

“Martín. Ever so greedy. Hold on.” He bent over, placing a string of kisses between the straining shoulders, then snaked his hand around Martín’s chest, helping him up. Once they were both on their knees, Andrés grabbed Martín’s ear between his teeth - not biting, just hard enough to make sure it was felt - and whispered in his ear. “Are you ready? You wanted me to fuck you, are you ready to be fucked?”  
  
“Please.” 

Andrés groaned in response, thrusting his hips forward, the hand around Martín’s chest getting his back flush with himself. “I know what you like.” He did, it was all in the hips - removing himself almost fully, snapping back in, his free hand now pushing Martín’s chin up and to the side, exposing his neck to kisses and not-so-soft nips with his teeth. “You want me to touch you, is that it? To feel my hand around your cock?” He slid the hand steadying Martín, goosebumps raising in the wake of his fingers, until he wrapped his fingers around his cock. “I know exactly how you like it, love. Exactly how hard and fast, I know how to undo you just right.” 

“Just do-” The rest of his protests were pushed out of him in a moan when Andrés started jerking him just as he promised, exactly how Martín liked it, as if he was plugged in his very sensory feedback. The thrusts became faster, more shallow, while Andrés’ hand worked Martín’s cock just right. “Stop. Stop or I’ll come.”

“I want you to come.”

“But not yet,” _groan_ “I want this to last.”

“I’m not far behind, especially when I have you like this. So wanton, I can’t believe I can turn you into this pliant mess, so eager, so close to coming undone. And I can feel you _everywhere_ .” The hum of _otherness_ was ebbing and flowing in him, murking sensations that were so familiar with others that were new, overpowering. Everything was beginning to amplify, blood rushing to his ears, and then he felt the body under his hands - in his fist - tense up, then uncoil, and this grunt - such a beautiful sound that Andrés could chase forever - make it obvious that Martín had come. He was right though, he wasn’t far behind, not now, not with a cock still twitching in his fist, getting slicker as he jerked it once, twice more. And then it was his turn, catching him almost by surprise because it wasn’t the usual explosion of pleasure, it was more intense, spreading outwards, less localized than usually, coursing downwards through his thighs and upwards as well, nestling in his chest. 

It seemed to seep slower, dissipating until only a faint buzz was left, and Andrés came back to himself, to the body leaning on him, drenched in sweat. 

“That was… unusual.” Andrés said, slowly extricating himself and helping Martín to lay on the bed, nestling next to him as soon as he’d disposed of the used condom. “Okay, so I have to congratulate you on your choices for the evening.” 

Martín laughed, weakly. “You know, we have enough for me to roll another one if you’d like.”

“Gods, it’s going to fry my brain if I do that again now.”

“Okay, we’ll wait. Is half an hour okay?”

It was.

**Author's Note:**

> Drugs are bad, m'kay?


End file.
